


A John By Any Other Colour

by respoftw



Series: Tumblr Prompts - McShep edition [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bug!John, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Rodney McKay, Spoilers for Trinity and Conversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 17:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7448602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Conversion - John's physical changes don't reverse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A John By Any Other Colour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miss_W](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_W/gifts).



> @miss-w-ruby asked for some bug!John and since this is one of my favourite SGA tropes, I was more than happy to comply.

“You mean to say that his physical state will not return to how he was before?”

Rodney had always been impressed by Teyla. Despite his initial assessment of the Athosians as an undeveloped, backwater race (an assessment he’d thankfully never had the bad sense to share with Teyla), her quiet, calm, assured and almost regal manner had made a lasting impression on him. The fact that her manner was so different from his own may have contributed to that fact - there were many situations in which he wished he could have had a bit of Teyla’s quiet authority and gentle acceptance of circumstances. Usually when they were trudging through the wet mud of yet another planet or three hours deep into a negotiation over the price of horseradishes.

But then there were other times when Rodney felt that Teyla woefully under reacted to the situation at hand, when she too readily accepted the words of others. Times like now.

“No, absolutely not,” Rodney’s chair scraped across the floor of the infirmary waiting room in his haste to stand up. “That is unacceptable.”

“Rodney,” Carson sounded as exhausted as he looked, “I’m not saying never. I’m going to keep looking and keep researching but…” He trailed off into a defeated sigh.

Elizabeth rested her hand on Carson’s arm in silent support. “Let’s all just be greatful that Carson and the medical team have managed to successfully reverse the effect on John’s mind. However he looks right now, we’ve got John back.” Elizabeth squeezed Carson’s arm in thanks. “You did a good job,” she said.

Rodney couldn’t believe his ears. He turned to look at Ronon and Telya, looking for validation in the outrage he was feeling but Telya’s resigned nod and Ronon’s ability to roll with the punches offered him none. Which, of course made his anger boil over.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Rodney rounded on Elizabeth. “He’s blue! And covered in scales. You’re just going to leave him like that? Like some...like some disgusting bug?”

“You don’t mince your words, do you?”

Rodney froze as John’s voice reached his ears. He turned in the direction of John’s private room (it even had John’s name on it, written in sharpie on the frame by some enterprising marine after the umpteenth time he’d ended up there) to find John leaning standing behind him, his chitin covered hands clenched into tight fists that belied the easy sarcasm of his words.

“No, John - - I - - ”

“Some of us are trying to sleep here, can you take this conversation elsewhere?” John spoke over his attempt to apologise, to rationalise his words, and retreated back into the darkness of his room.

Rodney gaped after him, furious with himself. That wasn’t what he’d meant, he didn’t mean that John was disgusting, John wasn’t supposed to hear that. _Fuck._

The others dispersed with the promise of a senior meeting first thing the next day. Only Teyla refrained from glaring at Rodney, but in some ways he preferred the accusing glares to the soft, understanding empathy in her eyes.

Rodney remained, staring at John’s closed door for a long time before his shoulders fell in defeat.

He had to make this right.

* * *

 

Making it right was easier said than done. By the time he dragged himself down to the mess for breakfast the next day his unfortunate choice of wording when expressing his feelings about John’s situation appeared to have spread across the city.

The general population's opinion of him had already taken a nosedive after the events on Doranda but now even those few who had seemed unaffected by his blowing up five-sixths of a solar system seemed to fall in line behind the rest of Atlantis; firmly on the side of their military commander.

Rodney prided himself on his self-reliance, on the fact that he could function - thrive even - without the need for companionship. With self-reliance, however, came self-awareness and Rodney had quickly come to the conclusion that he couldn’t function without John.

He suspected that had been the case since the moment that  the spiky-haired fly boy had ignored his common sense and sat down in a control chair back in Antarctica.

Rodney sighed heavily and pushed his tray of ‘almost-chicken’ away. God, he was screwed. Even blue and scaly, John was the most attractive man he’d ever seen. He choked on the laughter that threatened to bubble out. The ironic thing was that if people had any idea of just how not disgusting Rodney found John he’d probably still be as ostracised as he was now. What was better, he wondered? To be seen as an asshole or a pervert?

Either way he lost John. So, he stuck with the status quo, ate alone, spent every second he wasn’t eating, sleeping or fixing Atlantis on finding something to help John. Even if he was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Carson was right. There was nothing he could do

John had been largely absent through all of it. The few glances Rodney had gleaned, he had been shrouded in an oversized hoodie, always with at least one marine hovering over him.

The first time he’d saw the military presence trailing after him, Rodney had stormed into Elizabeth’s office and started to rail about how John wasn’t dangerous and that it was ridiculous to treat him as of he was. Elizabeth had listened to his rant without interrupting. Only when he finished did she coolly inform him that the marines had taken it upon themselves to look out for John; that they were to protect him.

“From what?!” Rodney had spluttered.

“I don’t know, Rodney. Maybe from anyone who thinks he’s unnatural or disgusting. Now, if you’re done?”

Rodney was well past done. The final straw came when AR-1 was called into action with Major Lorne at the helm.

Rodney stormed out the 'gate room, oblivious to Elizabeth’s demands that he get back there right now. This also meant that he missed the approving, knowing look that Teyla and Ronon shared but he didn’t care about any of that. All he could focus on was kicking some reality into John.

“Open up, goddammit,” Rodney pounded on John’s door. “If you think that there’s any door in Atlantis that I can’t hack my way through, Colonel, you obviously don’t know me very well.”

“Funny, that’s the conclusion I had come to myself.”

Rodney ignored the dig as he barged his way into John’s room. A cursory glance around solidified his hypothesis that John was drowning himself in self-pity - the remains of the almost-pecan pie and the paused video of “The Dam Busters” on his laptop.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You can’t resign. If you think for one second that I’m going off world without you covering my back, you’ve got another thing coming!”

John huffed, the sound oddly chittering. “What? You’d trust a disgusting bug to have your six?”

“You know I didn’t mean that,” Rodney said quietly. “I - it’s been said that I have a big mouth and don’t always think things through before I open it. In fact, _you’ve_ said that on more than one occasion. I don’t think you’re disgusting, John. I never could.”

John tittered, a joyless sound. “Really? So, you’re not disgusted by this?” John stepped forward and for the first time since the harsh lights of the infirmary, Rodney got a good look at what the retrovirus had wreaked.

The blue of John’s skin was a surprisingly beautiful shade, creeping up from his neck, covering the lower half of his face and rounding the edges of the rest, leaving only his nose, forehead and cheekbones clear. The spiky growths that dusted his neck lent him a threatening aura but Rodney knew from his research on Iratus bugs that they would be smooth to the touch, a hard chitinous exoskeleton that meant John would be that much harder to injure. Rodney couldn’t help but approve of that.

John flinched under Rodney’s scrutiny, his eyes dropping to the floor in discomfort. Rodney reached out with a tentative hand and cupped John’s chin (he was surprised to realise that the leathery looking skin was much softer than it looked, more velvet than rough). He tilted John’s face up until he was looking into John’s eyes.

The loss of John’s eyes was the one thing that Rodney did mourn. He would miss the ever changing hazel of John’s old eyes, the way they darkened from sparkling green through to a warm gold then a deep brown depending on a countless number of factors from the lighting to John’s mood. Still, the reptilian yellow and black was no less striking. They’d take some getting used to, sure, but anyone who said they were inhuman was blind. Rodney could see every emotion running through John’s head reflected in those eyes.

He expected to see the fear and insecurity that flashed in John’s eyes but what took his breath away was the heat, the want, the _hope_.

“No,” he said, pressing slowly closer. “I’m not disgusted.”

“Rodney.” John breathed his name, a welcome and a caution all at once. “You don’t want this. You," his voice broke, _"can’t_ want this.”

Rodney might have a reputation for never shutting up but sometimes, not often but sometimes, he knew when the time for talking was done and the time for action was needed.

John’s lips were pleasantly textured under Rodney’s own, his skin a few degrees cooler. Rodney had always ran a degree or two warmer than most people and he shivered happily as John pulled him closer, hissing in pleasure as Rodney’s warmth flooded over him.

Rodney had imagined his first kiss with John countless times since Antarctica. None of those daydreams had involved sharp blue claws carefully scratching their way down his spine or smooth cold chitin under his hands. Rodney quickly came to the conclusion that his imagination sucked. Because _this_ , this was better than anything Rodney could ever dreamed of.

Later, as they lay tangled together in John’s sheets, John burrowing closer until they were skin on skin, Rodney’s belly started to rumble.

John laughed his new, chittering laugh. Rodney had rapidly decided that John’s laugh was his new favourite sound and endeavoured to do everything possible to ensure he heard it more often.

“Hungry?” John asked.

Rodney didn’t want to move, not really. He’s pretty sure he’d be happy to stay like this forever. Unfortunately his stomach had other ideas.

“I could eat,” he admitted reluctantly.

John rolled off him and pulled his pants on, tossing Rodney’s own clothes at him. “Well, up and at 'em. I can’t have you hypoglycemic and moody. Let’s get some food.”

Rodney started to get dressed, watching as John toed his boots on and pulled on his t-shirt. He scratched nervously at the blue spikes dotted over his arms as he stared down at the hoodie he’d been hiding behind since he was released from the infirmary.

“Right, I’m ready,” Rodney clapped his hands together, startling John from his thoughts. “You coming?”

“Hopefully later, let’s eat first,” John grinned as he pushed Rodney out the door, following closely behind.

The hoodie was left in John’s quarters. Rodney smiled as he grabbed John’s hand in his own.

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me up on [tumblr](http://buffycuddlespigs.tumblr.com)


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